Slowly drifting away
Perceiving them - my desire
Eternal, ethereal
I visualize them.
The carriage knows no haste
Coachman is but old;
The ground beneath
Must be trotting, I presume.
There's a child in drapery
A schoolboy smiles there
And behind that elm, a young lad,
A strong man marching.
Smiles, tears, grief, pain
Passing by on those wings!
Where am I headed?
Eyes might close - any moment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem